


After the War

by BerryBagel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Background Brienne/Jaime having a great time, F/M, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 11:06:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerryBagel/pseuds/BerryBagel
Summary: Sansa tries to be understanding.





	After the War

Sansa has been having the same nightmare quite often these days.  She never realizes it at first. The nightmare always starts with her doing something normal.  She'll be having tea, or walking through the garden. Then she'll pass by a mirror and realize that she's become Cersei.

 

Then she wakes up.  Cersei was executed almost ten years ago, now.  It's not the worst nightmare Sansa has, but it is the most frequent.  Sansa doesn't think she's afraid of dying like Cersei. Sansa is pretty sure she's afraid of living like Cersei.  She's afraid that one day she's going to wake up and have no love left in her.

 

Sansa spends most of the day preparing for the feast.  She likes hearing her maids chatter as they braid and pin her hair.  One of the girls is from the north. The others have never left King’s Landing.   _ Is it really so cold up there _ , they want to know.  She thinks Cersei probably never much enjoyed talking with maids.

 

Her dress for the feast is bright yellow.  Bright yellow isn't a great color for her complexion, but that's the kind of negative thinking Sansa tries to avoid.  She embroidered it herself. Little fawns prance across the bodice, stitched in black thread. It's an old gown. Sansa can tell, because she hasn't stitched any stags, fawn or otherwise, in years.  Embroidering stags and wolves makes her think more negative thoughts, so she mostly sticks with floral designs these days.

 

The maids all suddenly stop their chatter.  She's thinks one of them must have let something slip.  Sometimes they forget she's there and the conversation loops back to her husband.  Maybe one of them thinks she saw Gendry with a whore. There's been a lot of not particularly quiet whispering about him and a brown-haired whore.

 

Littlefinger told her once that redheaded whores were most popular.  Of course, Littlefinger has also been dead for almost ten years. There's no one here to give Sansa vaguely lecherous accounts of King’s Landing whorehouse economics any more.

 

King’s Landing really goes for the tragically touching story of how Gendry loved Arya, and Arya loved Gendry, and how after Arya’s death, nothing was ever the same.  It's the kind of star-crossed lovers story that makes for great songs. Sansa can't help but feel that Gendry isn't doing a great job of maintaining that narrative.

 

When Sansa arrives at the feast, Gendry is talking with Ser Davos.  Sansa isn't totally certain what the feast is for. Everyone seems pretty happy, so she imagines it’s a celebration.  Gendry isn't doing badly at all as king, especially for someone who didn’t learn to read until after taking the throne.

 

Sansa was actually the one who taught him to read.  He said she was an excellent teacher. Very patient.  It had really been quite nice. They had sat in the garden for most of the lessons.  There were no awful schemes or rumors about brown-haired whores in the garden.

 

The feast is because Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne are visiting.  Sansa remembers now. Brienne was one of her dearest friends during the war.  As soon as the war was over Brienne and Jaime had sailed for Tarth and had Mother only knows how many children.  Sansa never had any children. That would require an actual bedding.

 

She supposes she could go get herself with child from any number of other men.  Gendry certainly wouldn't care. He'd probably congratulate her. But the whole premise of the thing is so very  _ Cersei _ to Sansa.  So she stays in her big empty room and imagines little red-haired babies named for everyone she's lost.

 

Jaime and Brienne have brought one of their litter with them.  He's a little boy, with curly blond hair. He has more of his mother's look than his father's.  He tells everyone who'll listen about how he wants to be a member of the Kingsguard when he grows up.   _ Just like my father _ , he says proudly.  Jaime looks uncomfortable.  The boy is probably still too young for the full story.

 

Gendry finds the child charming, and offers to introduce him to the captain of the Kingsguard.

 

“You've heard of Jon Snow” he says by way of introduction, smiling broadly at the captain.

 

“The King in the North!” The boy declares.  He knows his history, sure enough. “Why are you only captain of the Kingsguard?  Why aren't you king?”

 

Brienne is embarrassed and shushes the child, but Jaime laughs loudly.  Gendry and his captain launch into a perfectly rehearsed account of why, strategically and logistically, it made more sense for Gendry to take the iron throne while Jon tied up loose ends in the north.

 

Sansa feels sick.

 

***

 

The battle had been particularly bad.  Two waves of the wights had arrived at Winterfell in fairly rapid succession.  The first wave had laid waste to almost all the defenses, so the second had caught them off-guard and unprepared.

 

Gendry hadn't actually fought that day.  He had been strapping on his armor when Sansa said Winterfell needed him in the forge more than it needed him in the fray.  Gendry clearly would have preferred to follow Jon and Arya into battle, but he wasn't about to disobey a direct order from the lady of Winterfell.  He stayed back and worked on the repairs Sansa was convinced were so necessary. Sansa wonders if Gendry blames her for that decision. She knows she would, were the places reversed.

 

She watched Jon and Arya ride into battle.  She remembers thinking how powerful Jon looked, and how fragile Arya had seemed next to him.  She had also told Arya not to fight. Arya wasn't as inclined to listen, though.

 

Sansa saw Jon return, caked in blood and dirt.  He staggered through the gates, and a crowd had quickly gathered.  Jon gave a gasping explanation of how he and Arya killed the walker leading the wave.  The alliance of the living suffered their worst losses yet, but remained victorious.

 

Brienne, equally caked in blood and dirt, eventually asked what had come of Arya.  Jon looked Brienne in the eyes and told her Arya was killed in the fighting. The crowd’s exhausted relief turned to something darker and heavier.

 

Sansa remembers the sound her aunt Lysa made when she was pushed through the moon door.  For a while, she considered it the worst sound she had ever heard a human make. The cry that Gendry let out after learning of Arya’s death now holds that title.

 

Jon summoned Sansa, Daenerys, and Gendry to his quarters not long afterwards.  Bran was there, too, but he didn't have to be summoned. He was sitting very calmly for someone who presumably already knew what was about to transpire.  Sansa arrived to find Jon crying, which was somehow more distressing than anything else because Jon never cried.

 

Then Jon  _ took his face off _ and suddenly it was  _ Arya _ crying in front of them.  That was just as distressing, because Arya never cried either.  And Arya was dead.

 

“Jon died,” Arya told them, “but they need Jon more than they need me.”

 

Sansa had stood in disbelief for a minute, but Arya had to repeat herself several times before Daenerys fully understood.

 

Arya was probably right.  Morale had never been lower.  The Northerners would never follow Daenerys without Jon.  Their men respected and feared Arya, but they loved Jon. To lose their saving grace so soon after entering a near-impossible war against the dead would destroy the alliance of the living.

 

So Arya kept Jon’s face, and led his men.  It was endlessly distressing and it was  _ wrong _ , but it was necessary, so Sansa said nothing.  Very few knew of Arya’s training with the faceless men.  If any of the commanders thought their King in the North was acting differently, they were quick enough to attribute the changes to grief over losing his favorite sister.

 

Sansa thought for a while that it wasn't going to matter, because they were all going to die anyways.  But somewhere along the way, the tide had turned. The living rallied behind fire and dragonglass and, they thought, Jon.  Daenerys died in a final fiery battle against the Night King, but Spring had come.

 

Of course then, there was rebuilding to be done, and a throne to be claimed.  There was a statue of Arya commissioned for the Winterfell crypt and  _ wait _ , Sansa thought, wasn't this lie supposed to end once the war was done?  Wasn't Jon allowed to be put to rest?

 

No, the North needed their King, so Arya stayed North with Jon’s face.  Gendry was legitimized, and sent to rule the south. No one left alive seemed particularly enthusiastic about the iron throne, and the son of Robert Baratheon seemed like as reasonable a choice as any.

 

Arya had actually suggested that Sansa marry Gendry.  There was going to be pressure on the King to marry. Gendry loved Arya, and Arya loved Gendry, but as far as everyone was concerned, Arya was dead.   _ Couldn't you just reveal that you're alive, and marry him yourself? _ Sansa asked.  No. Jon was still needed.  But it would be great if Sansa could go and be queen, because Sansa didn't really have any other plans to get married again, did she?

 

Going south and participating in a sham marriage was still better than staying north and seeing Jon's face used as a mask on a daily basis, so she did it.

 

Then Bran had come of age, and the title of King in the North was suddenly hoisted to him.  Sure, who better to rule the North, than the last trueborn son of Ned Stark? And that left Jon free to come join the Kingsguard.  Did Arya  _ really _ have to keep Jon's face for that?  Apparently.

 

***

 

Sansa wonders if Arya thinks she's honoring Jon.  His name will certainly not be forgotten by history, now.  His entry in the Kingsguard record book has already spilled over onto a second page.  There's any number of lovely songs and stories written in his honor.

 

They're all lies.  Did Arya forget that the most important thing to Jon was always the truth?  If Jon’s body was actually buried in the crypt beneath Winterfell instead of burned in some field, Sansa thinks he'd be rolling in his grave.

 

On days when Sansa is inclined to think less charitably towards her sister, she wonders if Arya keeps up the ruse for her own benefit.  As a child, Arya had always wanted to train as a knight. Well, now she is one. She holds the respect and command of the Kingsguard, and never has to hold a needle and thread ever again.

 

Sansa had hopes and aspirations as a child, also.  She wanted to marry a kind and loving and handsome king, and be queen.  Fair enough, she got that. Sansa didn't realize hoping and wishing were so pedantic; she had assumed that it was obvious she wanted someone loving  _ towards her _ .

 

Arya and Gendry aren't known for being careful.  People have seen or heard them together any number of times.  Of course, no one in King’s Landing has seen Arya in well over ten years.  Everyone is happy to jump to other conclusions. Were Sansa particularly spiteful, she'd tell Arya that people are mistaking her for a brown-haired whore.  Isn't that a far cry from the beautiful, tragic Arya in all the songs?

 

_ Whore _ was always Cersei’s insult of choice, and Sansa isn't a spiteful person.  At least, she's trying her hardest not to be.

 

The feast is nearing its end.  Brienne’s son is asleep against his mother’s shoulder.  Someone has goaded the band into playing a more bawdy rendition of  _ The Bear and The Maiden Fair _ than is really proper for dignified company.  Sansa stands, politely listening to Jaime enthusiastically talk about Tarth’s...fishing industry?

 

Across the hall, Gendry has clearly had several cups of wine, and is whispering something in Arya’s ear.  His hand is on her thigh. Arya is still wearing Jon’s face. Sansa can only imagine what onlookers will have to say.  Anything makes more sense than the truth, she supposes.

 

Arya happens to turn her head, and makes eye contact with Sansa.  Arya smiles, like they're sharing a joke.  _ I've impersonated our dead brother for the last ten years, and now I'm going to go fuck your husband _ .  Hilarious.  Grinning, Arya doesn't even look so much like Jon.

 

For just a second, Sansa hates her.


End file.
